


Lives

by TrulyCertain



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyCertain/pseuds/TrulyCertain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard goes to fight his war, and Samara's resistance is wearing down every time she sees him. Will he break before her adherence to the Code does? Slightly AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lives

 

Humans are like dying stars, Samara thinks. They flare briefly, brightly, at their most beautiful just before their end.

 

 

John watches the Relay on the Galaxy map, spinning and spinning, orange-red light blinking like a warning. There's a conspicuous silence from Joker, and he knows he's being watched, second-guessed. He stays there one more long moment, then spins on his heel and, without a word, heads for the only place here that feels like a sanctuary.

 

 

As the human commander sits next to her once again, hands resting on his knees, eyes on the stars, she breaks her meditation, acutely aware of his presence. He is, as always, respectfully silent until she speaks. He has been coming here since she made her oath, asking her questions, head to one side and blue eyes inquisitive, about all he can think of - her code, her thoughts on this mission, the bounds of the oath.

Only recently have the questions turned to... herself. While the feeling has been unfamiliar, her answers rusty, hesitant, careful, it has not been _unpleasant._

He has listened through her awkwardness, her anger with herself, and she has felt something blossom inside her that _shouldn't have._ And she has seen what has been lying behind the curiosity in his eyes, and cursed it.

There have been many, but never before a human.

She has remembered, suddenly and clearly, why she works for _herself_ , and only herself. Alone.

Always alone. It is safer that way.

"Samara..." He trails off, and she does not look at him. Will not.

"Yes, Shepard?" she prompts him, as the silence stretches.

"Five hours," he says matter-of-factly, and his voice is stronger than its usual questioning tone. Final.

All she can think to say is, "Yes." She watches the stars, listening to his breathing.

"I have five hours," he continues, "before I walk into some kind of hell. And I don't think I'm walking out again. And I was prepared for that, for a long time, but now... before I go, I need to ask one more question."

She looks at him now, unable to help herself, and his eyes are terrifyingly, wonderfully earnest. "Does the Code cover this?" And then his arms are at her waist, his mouth on hers, warm and strong.

She almost loses herself to it, struggles to find the strength to pull back and say what she must.

 

 

In the darkness of the Collector base, John strides forwards, drawing his gun, the words echoing in his head.

" _Another time... another life..."_

The night after the mission, they return to the Normandy and dock at the Citadel.

She leaves late, quietly and without incident. Only the pilot sees her; she halts, expecting him to alert John... Shepard... _the Commander._ Instead, he watches her, green eyes dark in the powered-down CIC, and raises a hand to his cap in a short, silent salute.

She nods once in acknowledgement, and, as she steps out of the airlock, raises her a hand to her other wrist. Shepard no longer has need of her, she tells herself. The Oath has reached its end.

There is a brief, bright flare of biotics, then she walks on, into the night.

 

 

When she sees him at the temple, his eyes are the same. A little wearier, perhaps, but still bright and intelligent, noticeably blue even in the orange light emitted by his omni-tool.

He halts, as she does, but quickly regains his composure in front of his team. His eyes meet hers, so many questions in them that she has to look away, and then he continues to ask about the situation, his tone formal, that of a soldier, and offers to help.

She accepts, knowing that before them lies the past he has heard so much about, and trusting him to understand. Still.

He is calm, giving her hushed reassurances even as he watches her lose all she has left, tone never changing. Used to death and destruction.

She realises dimly, in the back of her mind, that she had once thought humans young, brash; naive.

 

 

She holds the gun to her head, finally ready to leave the world that has caused her so much pain; sees Shepard's team turn, not wanting to watch, and closes her eyes, beginning to whisper a prayer for the Goddess. Her grip falters as another hand closes round her wrist, gentle even in armour, and lowers it.

"Let me die," she protests, voice hushed and desperate. "There is nothing left for me here, Shepard."

"Yes," he responds, quietly but fiercely, "there is."

Her eyes fly open, the gun clattering to the ground, at the brush of his lips at the back of her neck.

Then it is gone, and he steps away, looking to his team as if nothing has happened.

They are still unaware, eyes even now shut tight. He loudly clears his throat, and steps away, as if nothing has happened.

As he bids her goodbye, she can barely look him in the eye, still feeling the echo of his touch at her neck.

 

 

As she sees him at the Citadel, she knows she shouldn't have called him here.

She had almost forgotten how he looked out of armour; he is lighter, more relaxed, but still broad, his walk straight and tall. He gives her a lopsided half-smile, and her throat dries.

"Shepard," she says firmly, and his smile fades at her tone. "What I told you before the Collector base... it still true. We cannot..."

He stops in front of her, and there is hurt in his eyes. "I..." He stops, before regaining his voice, obviously remembering his actions the last time they met. "I'm sorry. I should have respected that." Silence hangs in the air as he searches for something to say, before turning and making to go.

"Farewell, Shepard," she says.

He stops mid-step and quietly replies, "I... only have this life. Farewell, Samara."

She watches him until he is lost from view, knowing that she will not see him again.

 

 

As she watches her planet fall, the rubble and bodies on the viewscreen, on Thessia, she finally realises. She feels the tears roll down her face, silent and slow.

His words echo in her mind.

" _I only have this life._ "

And, she knows now, it is too short for this.

 

 

As she makes her way through London, she knows she should have ended her life from shame long ago. She has betrayed her Code, shirked her duty. She wonders why she has accepted _this_ offer - there have been many, others before him. The answer comes to her as she strides through the hospital door, straight through the press.

He has made her _feel_ again.

 

 

John awakes to the feel of a hand clasping his, soft and female. He opens his eyes to see Samara watching him, eyes wide and shining under the orange hospital lights on backup power.

He opens his mouth to question her, the motion slightly painful, but she simply leans down and whispers two words in his ear.

  


_"This life."_

**Author's Note:**

> First story on AO3!
> 
> This pairing has fascinated me for a while, but I haven't seen much of it around. That's probably part of what made me write this.
> 
> This story is from a prompt at the Insanity Round at the Mass Effect Challenge Community (me-challenge.livejournal.com) that spiralled slightly out of control.


End file.
